


Loyal

by Hikari_and_Yami



Series: Blood On The Leaves [1]
Category: Yu-Gi-Oh!
Genre: Alternate Universe, Dirty Sex, M/M, OOC because everyone's a gangsta, filthylanguage
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-01-26
Updated: 2016-06-20
Packaged: 2018-05-16 11:00:21
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 8
Words: 12,199
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/5825998
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Hikari_and_Yami/pseuds/Hikari_and_Yami
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Atemu is a gangsta. Yuugi wants a cat. PWP</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> Like. I don't even know what this is. 
> 
> I was listening to Ja Rule and Ashanti earlier this week, because I was in one of my '90s Jams' phases and this just... spawned. I'm so sorry.

* * *

“Yo! Bossman.”

Atemu doesn’t look up from his paperwork. “What is it?” he asks in a flat tone – one that clearly relays that he’s already bored with the conversation.

Atemu shifts in his office chair in hopes that a new position will provide his back with more support. He makes a mental note to have Kaiba purchase him a new chair by the end of the day. This one is already nearly a month old.

“Apparently your boy decided to take your Ferrari on a joyride.”

Atemu skims over an invoice transaction and signs off on the dotted line at the bottom with a swirl of his wrist. “Is that so?” he says absentmindedly.

“Yeah…” The man with blond hair and hazel eyes in his doorway hesitates. “And he also may have sorta… driven it into the bank off of 5th street…”

Atemu scrunches his face down at a folder on his desk that catches his attention. “Is the car salvageable?” he asks the other.

“It… doesn’t look like it, boss.”

Atemu nods minutely. He pulls the contents from the folder on his desk and stuffs them instead into an envelope. He seals the flap and tucks it into the middle drawer of his desk. “Is he hurt?” Atemu asks, more curious than concerned.

The other man shrugs. “Nothin’ a few shots of jack won’t cure.”

Atemu hums thoughtfully at that. “Where is he?” he inquires.

“Lockup,” the blond says simply.

Atemu finally looks up at Katsuya Jounouchi. He smiles. “Good. Let him sit there.”

 

* * *

 

Someone bails Yuugi out a few days later.

Atemu isn’t pleased with this.

Either his orders were disobeyed or there was miscommunication among his subordinates.

Either way, someone will pay the consequences for ruining Atemu’s 'stress-free' Saturday.

And as Yuugi strolls into the backyard of his luxury home and walks towards him, an ethereal vision of beauty and sin, Atemu decides that those consequences will be _dire_.

The senior members of his perfectly legitimate ‘club’ are enjoying the blistering hot afternoon by his in-ground pool, which is crafted to perfection with Italian marble. They are all surrounded by beautiful women, some of the finest whiskey to ever grace one's lips, and cigars flown straight in from Cuba.

Atemu was rather looking forward to enjoying these luxuries as well, up until the moment Yuugi appears and alerts everyone to his presence. 

The man is hard to miss, after all.

With cotton shorts that barely hide the curves of his ass and a thin white tank that falls off one shoulder, Yuugi is all eyes and milky skin. His hair is a waterfall of dark strands and golden highlights, and Atemu's hands are already itching to run through the luxurious locks.

But no feature of his compares to his eyes - the irises of which are like winter sunsets that turn blue skies into shades of deep violet.

Atemu cannot deny that he is a beautiful man - even with that nasty scrape on his cheekbone and the assortment of purplish bruises on his skin that the younger man likes to accrue through acts of impulsivity and downright stupidity.

Yes, even with all of that, Yuugi is stunning.

Even more so than the half-naked woman in his lap.

His guests only pause from their conversation and relaxation for a moment to acknowledge Yuugi's presence. 

And then they turn back to what they were doing prior, because they know better. Or, if they are long-time members, it's because they are honestly used to this. 

After all, if Atemu and Yuugi are in the same vicinity of each other, then it's a lucky bet that one of them is going to end up making a scene.

It's usually Yuugi.

 

  

* * *

 

“Beat it,” Yuugi greets the pretty brunette moving her slender form against Atemu's toned body. The elder man is practically baking to tan perfection in the sun with no shirt and what looks to be new swim trunks. 

The woman turns to him then, her face already pursed into a scowl at the interruption, but once her eyes find Yuugi’s, she decides not to protest. 

Perhaps she knows that the last woman who did so was dragged across the length of Atemu's backyard and had her head shoved into the pool until she nearly drowned.

When later asked about the incident, Yuugi merely smiled up at Atemu and said he was simply  _making a point_. 

Atemu grunts as the woman moves off of him, and Yuugi takes her place.

The boy straddles him, those silky thighs encasing him, and suddenly Atemu’s vision is all amethyst eyes.

“ _Yuugi_ ,” Atemu murmurs the name fondly. He lifts a hand up to cup Yuugi’s beautiful face and traces his fingertips over Yuugi’s cheek, the pad of thumb brushing over the healing cut over the bone and the surrounding bruise.

Atemu smiles softly at him.

Then, he forces his hand into the boy’s delicious hair, clenches his hand into a fist around the dark strands, and yanks Yuugi’s head back hard enough to hurt.

Using his free hand, he rips the pistol from the waistline of his trunks, pulls the hammer of the gun back, and brings the muzzle to the underside of Yuugi’s exposed jaw.

“You totaled my _favorite_ car,” Atem hisses lowly, his eyes narrowing into slits and burning with a fire only Yuugi could ignite so furiously. “Give me one reason why I shouldn’t shoot you right now.”

“I can give you five,” Yuugi says playfully, his eyes focused on the sky above but that shit-eating smirk on his face visible for all to see. “And all of them involve me without any clothes on.”

Atemu raises an eyebrow at that.

It has been a long two weeks since the last time he was in between Yuugi’s legs, and by the way his cock pulses under his shorts at Yuugi’s words, Atemu knows that he would much rather fuck Yuugi senseless than clean his blood off his new Armani swimwear.

Atemu grunts, more annoyed than angry now. Slowly, he lowers his gun and releases his hold on Yuugi’s hair.

“I’m getting real sick of your shit, Yuugi,” he says, placing his pistol on the side table beside him.

“Oh well, good, cause I’m getting sick of yours too,” Yuugi replies, because he doesn’t have the sense to keep his fucking mouth shut. Atem briefly considers picking back up his gun to actually shoot him this time but, before he can, Yuugi’s tongue is in his mouth.

And now, he can’t think of anything else except how much he wants to throw Yuugi onto his bed and fuck the idiocy right out of him.

Yuugi withdraws his tongue from his mouth, and those soft lips find the lobe of his ear instead. “The next time you decide to fuck one of your whores when you’re _supposed_ to be picking me up from the airport," Yuugi whispers into his ear, "your car will be the last of your worries.”

As opposed to the blind fury Yuugi threatening him would've usually provoked, Atem instead finds himself amused at such a ridiculous notion. “You drove my car into the river because you were jealous?” Atemu asks him.

“ _Please_.” Yuugi runs his fingers down his bare chest and his lips find Atemu's jaw. “I’d never waste the effort of being jealous of some skank who spreads her legs for anything with a pulse. In the same breath though, don’t think you can stand me up whenever you damn well please. I am not one of your whores, and it would do you well to remember that.”

Atemu purses his lips, only partly listening to Yuugi’s ramblings at this point. “You know,” he says distractedly as Yuugi’s tongue runs the length of his neck, “with the amount of time you spend claiming not to be a bitch, you spend an awful amount of time _acting_ like one.”

Yuugi doesn’t like that comment all that much.

This is clear by the falter in his ministrations, and the hiss that leaves his throat. Yuugi immediately goes to move off of him, and though he’ll be leaving Atemu with an incredibly stiff dick (doesn’t really matter; there are plenty of women here that will finish the job), Atemu simply does not have the patience to tolerate Yuugi at the moment and coerce him into staying.

Atemu does admit to himself, however, that the thought of parting those pretty little lips and using that mouth for something _actually_ useful is obscenely tempting. 

But, no. Atemu can't deal with Yuugi. At least, not today.

So, instead, he decides to give Yuugi some friendly advice, before the man takes his leave to go back to whatever hell he escaped from.

Ignoring Yuugi’s cry of indignation, Atemu snatches his wrist before he can get too far and pulls him back to him.

“Listen, you insufferable little _brat_ ," Atemu snaps evenly. "If you pull a stunt like this again, I’ll tie you to a bed, light a match, and _leave_ you there. Understand?”

Yuugi yanks his wrist back and glares down at the lounging man. “You can go fuck yourself, Atemu. Or better yet, go fuck one of your sluts. If I’m lucky, you’ll catch something and your dick will just fall off.”

Atemu pins the younger man with a heated glare of his own as Yuugi stalks back out of the yard.

True to script, the gathering continues on without a hitch – not a person out of place and a weary glance shot his way after his mini-confrontation with Yuugi. Nothing to indicate that anything is wrong or out of the ordinary. Atemu figures because its really not, and that it would be more of a cause for concern if he and Yuugi actually engaged in a pleasant interaction with one another for a change.

After a few minutes pass, Katsuya appears next to him. “All good, boss?” he asks him.

Atemu smirks over at him. “Yeah. Now I have an angry fuck to look forward to later.”


	2. Chapter 2

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Enjoy the chapter! Also, warning, uhhh, we're getting dirty pretty quickly into this story, so read at your own discretion.

Atemu does not get an angry fuck later, because Yuugi does not come back home. 

And though _home_ is a term Atemu uses with the utmost reluctance, the fact remains that Yuugi does live with him. 

Part-time, anyways. 

Fortunately for Atemu, his blood pressure, _and_ the Domino Police Department, Yuugi travels at least once a month to the States to visit family.

When he does come back to the city, he resides in one of the nine extra bedrooms in Atemu's house - that is when he's not out on the streets wreaking havoc on some poor, unsuspecting soul who has yet realize that something so beautiful can be so dangerous.

Yuugi has a place of his own, of course.  
  
It's a nice little loft apartment overlooking the ocean, and though Yuugi rarely uses it, it certainly has come in handy in the past.   
  
Especially on the occasions (four, to be exact) that Atemu has banned Yuugi from the premises of his estate and has given his security a ‘shoot-on-sight’ order for the little raven-haired sociopath.

Atemu turns his attention away from Yuugi and back to the papers on his desk. He shifts in his seat and determines that he is satisfied with his new chair. It is a nice addition to his study - a well-furnished room, with armchairs and oak side tables and a private bar that holds some of his favorite scotches. The fireplace is crackling to his left, and its warmth fills the room to a comfortable degree. 

It is late - nearing midnight - but Atemu knows that he won't be retiring to bed anytime soon. There is simply too much to do in preparation for his meeting with Kaiba tomorrow. 

Seto Kaiba, to be specific - the CEO of one of the largest corporations in the country by day, and the overseer of Atemu’s 'less-than-legal' activities by night. Though not the criminal mastermind that Atemu recognizes himself to be, Kaiba is just as essential to the well-being of Atemu's operations as he is.

And what better cover to have than a powerful genius that can pull strings across the globe if he so wished.

Atemu can't think of a better partner to have, especially since he doesn't have to concern himself with any possible ulterior motives Kaiba may have. He knows that the multi-millionaire CEO isn't motivated by money.

He knows that Seto Kaiba simply likes the taste of power and cocaine. 

Atemu also knows what this meeting tomorrow will entail.

After all, the feds have been breathing down their necks more so than usual, and they want nothing more than to pin the corrupt CEO and the arrogant 'businessman' Atemu claims to be with a list of charges. 

Money laundering, fraud, extortion, bribery.

And those are just the _nice_ charges.

You know, the ones that don't involve drug trafficking, prostitution rings, or broken kneecaps. 

It is truly a shame for the feds though that they have yet to find anything substantial to link either of them to such terrible, baseless accusations. 

Atemu smiles a bit at that.

He isn't worried, because he knows this will all go away.

Kaiba will pay off who needs to be paid off, and Atemu will silence who needs to be silenced.

Business will continue as usual. 

The cops will retire with their tiny pensions and seethe about the ruthless gangstas they let slip through their fingers.

And Atemu will retire to a beach on an island somewhere and sleep on a bed made of money and sit on a toilet made of gold. 

Atemu is interrupted from his fantasies of jerking off into a pool of federal agents' tears when he notices someone slip into his study out of the corner of his eye. He doesn't look up, because he can smell the crazy from his seat and knows Yuugi has finally come home after more than three days of pouting; or of burning things to the ground; or of whatever it is Yuugi does when he's upset. 

Atemu listens to the footsteps and, after a moment, a curved wine glass is set down on his desk, filled with a rich Merlot. 

Atemu glances at it.

Then, he looks back down at his paperwork. “You drink some first,” he orders.

He can’t see Yuugi’s face, but he can hear the amusement in his voice. “You think I would be so brazen as to poison you in your own home?”

“Brazen? " Atem repeats thoughtfully. "Is that what they’re calling it these days? Hmm, yes, I suppose that does have a nicer ring to it than insane.”

Yuugi doesn't reply, but he does make a point of picking the wine glass up by its stem, drinking its entire contents, and placing the empty glass back down on Atemu's desk.  

“Have you cooled off now?" Atemu asks him, only then leaning back in his chair to address Yuugi. The boy is dressed in nothing but an oversized shirt ( _Atemu's_ shirt) that just scarcely grazes his thighs. "I must say, you are becoming awfully creative in your methods of showing me your unhappiness. I had no idea that you were even allowed to ship a dead possum.”

Yuugi frowns and, for a moment, seems genuinely distressed. “It _died?”_ he says with wide eyes. Then, his expression resets, and he raises a delicate eyebrow at Atemu. “Are you sure it’s not just playing dead?”

Atemu stares at him for a full twenty seconds and reconsiders every decision he has ever made in his life up until this point. “I’m going to look down," he finally responds, "and when I look up, you’ll be gone.”

Yuugi very clearly takes this to mean that Atemu wants him even closer, and so the boy circles the desk and plops down onto Atemu's lap.

All Atemu can manage is a loud exhale when Yuugi's round eyes are right in front of his. “You are utterly exhausting," Atemu says to him. 

"Well, that's not very nice." Yuugi smiles at him and leans over to kiss Atemu's cheekbone. 

Atemu purses his lips at the gentle act. "You seem to be in a rather cheery mood tonight," Atemu observes. "Are all the voices in your head getting along today, dear?"

Yuugi's smile widens. "No one in my head, but you, Atemu," he replies, kissing his brow this time. "Though I'd _much_ rather you be inside of me than up there."

"No," Atemu says immediately. "I have work to do."

Yuugi ignores him, cause he always ignores Atemu when he doesn't get the answer he wants. "Come _on_ ," Yuugi whines, because he's a mindless child that Atemu just _barely_ tolerates. "I've missed you these past few weeks," he continues in his sweetest voice - one that Atemu is positive he practices daily in the mirror. "If this is about the car or about the mean things I said a few days ago, I'm _really_ sorry."

"No you're not."

"I can be if it means I get laid tonight."

"Yuugi," Atemu warns him now. "I have more important matters to attend to than your chronic instability. Get _off_."

"What's wrong?" Yuugi mutters, and Atemu notices that the tender kisses to his face have turned into more sultry licks of the boy's tongue and nips of his teeth. "Can't rise to the occasion?" the smaller man provokes. 

Atemu instantly leans back in his chair, creating distance between them, so that he can snap his gaze to Yuugi’s. “Careful, darling," Atemu says evenly. 

Yuugi grins and shrugs those creamy, round shoulders. "It's nothing to be ashamed of, Atemu. I reckon it has to do with getting old."

If Atemu was getting too old at a mere twenty-eight, then Yuugi was certainly to blame. Atemu was convinced that for every month that Yuugi stuck around, a year was shaved off his life. At this rate, he was dying in his thirties.  

“You seem rather insistent on losing your tongue tonight," Atemu says absently. 

"Not losing it, no. Just _using_ it."

That's when Atemu's cock stirs.

He still has a lot of work to get done, but Yuugi was in his lap - the pretty, insufferable little thing that he was, and Atemu has always had a hard time resisting the violet-eyed wolf in sheep's clothing. 

Atemu sighs. He raises a hand and grabs Yuugi's chin. “Why do you have to run your goddamn mouth so much?” Atemu says, turning Yuugi's head to the side to examine Yuugi’s perfect face.

Why couldn’t he find a little dear, like Bakura, who always kept quiet and knew his place? Why did the Gods send Yuugi to him instead? He supposed that perhaps this was his punishment for his darker life choices. Maybe if he hadn't decided to dabble in the profitable world of sex and drugs and digging shallow graves, he wouldn't have been cursed with this bundle of pretty eyes and mood swings curled in his lap. 

In the midst of Atemu's inner musings, Yuugi lifts his own hand to grasp Atemu's and guides the tan fingers away from his chin and into his mouth. 

Those delectable lips purse as they wrap around Atemu's knuckles. 

Yuugi _sucks_. 

“Later,” Atemu says, despite his hardened cock.

He has too much work to do.

Also, he doesn't like when Yuugi gets his way. 

But Yuugi doesn't care about what Atemu likes, so instead he swirls his tongue around Atemu's fingers and sucks again. 

“I said  _later_ , Yuugi.”

Atemu can feel his cock throbbing.

Yuugi's thighs are open and begging for him to come play in between them. With nothing but his shirt on, it would be _so easy_  for Atemu to just take him right now.

Atemu's resistance is slipping.

Yuugi is all that is temptation and sin, and he feeds Atemu's inner darkness so completely when Atemu is inside of him.

Atemu decides that he needs immediate relief. "Oh, for fuck’s sake," he snaps and stands to his feet. 

Yuugi falls back hard against the wooden surface of his desk, but all Yuugi does is giggle while Atemu unbuckles his belt and shoves his slacks down. Yuugi's shirt rises up on its own, and his perfectly-shaped cock is already thick with need and leaking with delicious, white droplets of pre-cum. 

Atemu pushes his slick fingers inside of Yuugi, but only for a minute, because neither of them care for foreplay - and also because Yuugi's a dirty little masochist who likes Atemu's touch rough. 

Atemu curls his fingers and stretches him open, and Yuugi's resulting moans are making Atemu so hard, it nearly hurts. 

Atemu removes his fingers and fills Yuugi then with his cock. The barely prepared muscles clench around him with a delicious intensity, and Atemu doesn't give them time to adjust because pounding into that tightness is what he lives for. 

Yuugi arches and begs and groans and is just a glorious, delectable little fuck. 

Atemu wraps his hands around Yuugi's hips and knows he will bruise the skin there. Yuugi's hiked knees brush against Atemu's sides, and Atemu uses the leverage he has to develop a steady stream of hard thrusts that makes Yuugi breathless. The boy grips the sides of his desk, nails running across fine oak, and whispers filth to him.

Atemu decides to fuck him until he can't talk anymore.

It takes twenty minutes or so, but eventually Yuugi's words are just an incoherent mess of syllables and, when he cums, he does so over his bare stomach. To be fair though, at this point, Atemu is also struggling to think or say anything sensible. It doesn't matter though, because he soon finds pure ecstasy as he cums as deeply inside of Yuugi as he can manage. 

Swearing under his breath, Atemu bends over and leans his forearms on either side of Yuugi's head on his desk to support himself. He pants over Yuugi, sweat running in beads down his face and dripping from his chin to fall on Yuugi’s cheek.

He stares at Yuugi through half-lidded eyes, and the boy is simply a beautiful mess of tousled hair and flushed skin.

Atemu strongly considers fucking him again.

But he has work to do. 

“Fuckin’ happy, you little devil?" Atemu asks, as he pushes onto his hands and stands back up. He slips out of Yuugi and reaches down to pull his pants up.

"More than you know," Yuugi exhales, his face breaking out into a blissful smile. He's practically glowing in the aftermath of their sex. 

"Good," Atemu breathes out, sitting back down onto his chair. He waves his hand dismissively. "Now go totter off somewhere and let me work. If you interrupt me again, I'll have Katsuya escort you from the property." 

Still slightly out of breath, Yuugi laughs airily - probably at the idea that Katsuya could force him to do anything he didn't want to do. 

But Atemu has reinforcements on the premises and Yuugi knows this, so the little one peels himself off his desk and (now _wrinkled_ ) papers with a grin. Once on his feet, Yuugi leans forward and presses his mouth against Atem’s. "I'll be in my room if you want to go another round later," he purrs. 

Then, Yuugi turns and leaves Atemu's study with a sway of his hips. 

Atemu shakes his head and runs a hand through the knots at the end of his hair. When he brings his hand back in front of him, he notices that a few dark strands are trapped in between his fingers.  

And one single gray strand. 


	3. Chapter 3

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Title Change. Other than that, enjoy some blindshipping goodness.

Atemu enjoyed the simple things in life – sex, money, and a stiff drink to name just a few.

He also liked hot days and quiet afternoons.

Today is one such day.

He is lying out by his pool, and the blaring sun is like a blanket of warmth over his skin. He can feel his body soaking in its rays and making his natural tan skin glow with its light.

There is nothing on his agenda for the entirety of the day. He made sure to have Katsuya adjust his schedule for the week to leave him this day of peace and relaxation.

It has been nothing but birds chirping and sun shining and blue skies for two hours now.

Not a cloud in the sky or a peep from the house.

And this how Atemu knew – oh, he just _knew_ that someone was going to ruin it.

He knew this, but he still frowns when a shadow falls over the length of his body and blocks the sun from his face. He removes one hand from the base of his neck and lifts his sunglasses to glare at the perpetrator.

“What is it?” Atemu asks the blond man.

Katsuya sighs and crosses his arms, and Atemu thinks that the man must not enjoy being the bearer of bad news all the time.

“Yuugi is asking for you,” Katsuya tells him.

Atemu raises an eyebrow at the blond and appears thoughtful for a moment. “Wow,” he eventually says with a purse of his lips. “It is actually incredible how little fucks I have to give.” He lowers his sunglasses back onto the bridge of his nose. “Now, if that’s all…”

Katsuya should’ve taken that as his cue to leave, but he doesn’t.

Atemu knows there must be more.

“Bakura and Marik are also here.”

“Fucking Christ,” Atemu exhales, rolling his eyes behind his shades. “What I wouldn’t give to interact with a normal fucking human being for a change.”

Katsuya doesn’t respond, and Atemu knows that his quiet afternoon has come to an end. 

 

* * *

 

Yuugi has always had an odd affinity for weak, helpless little things.

This being so, Yuugi’s eyes immediately lock onto Ryou the moment he walks into Atemu’s study (without _knocking_ much to Atemu's endless chagrin).

Marik and Bakura barely acknowledge Yuugi’s entrance, because they are busy exchanging stories from the previous night. They sit in the armchairs in front of Atemu's desk, as the scarlet-eyed man studies the folder in front of him. Katsuya stands quietly at his side.

On the opposite side of the room, Yuugi pounces on Ryou, who is sitting silently in one of the recliners by the fireplace. Atemu has always hoped that Yuugi’s strange fascination with Ryou would lead to Yuugi picking up some pointers from the other on proper etiquette and basic manners.

But alas, Atemu’s hope of that ever happening dwindles with each passing day and with each citation Yuugi receives from the local police department.

At the noisy interruption, Atemu glances up for only a moment to glare at Yuugi. Then, he looks back down at the folder containing information on a small-time gang who has been causing Atemu and his club unnecessary problems as of late.

Atemu is more than happy to address these issues at once.

But Yuugi is _not_ happy.

No, the boy is not happy with the disheveled state of his friend.

Yuugi is frowning at the yellowish bruise over Ryou’s jaw, because he knows that they’re different from his own. He brushes his fingers over the bruise with a bit of wonder in his eyes, and Ryou tries not to flinch. “What did you do?” Yuugi asks him curiously.

Bakura is the one who answers him from across the room. “Don’t baby him,” he snaps. “He got what was coming – ”

“Did you hear my zipper open, Bakura?” Yuugi interrupts casually, his gaze still studying Ryou’s injured face.

Bakura stops then, and his eyebrows furrow. “What?” he asks. 

“Did I stutter?" Yuugi asks him. "I asked you if you heard my zipper open, because if not, then I don't know why you're opening your fucking mouth right now.”

“Oh  _damn_ , shots fired.” Marik leans back in his chair with a grin and asks Katsuya to fetch him some popcorn.

“Listen here, you little _cunt_ ,” Bakura snarls, already on his feet. His tone is dark, and his eyes darker still. "Don't think for a second that I won't break your fucking skull in – "

“You do realize that you are arguing with the mental and emotional equivalent of a four year-old?” Atemu cuts in, his eyes never leaving the papers in front of him. “So, maybe instead of giving him the attention he so desperately craves, how about you leave him to fuss over Ryou and _focus_ on the problem at hand.”

Atemu knows that neither of them will want to back down, but he also knows that there are more important things to deal with at the moment than their egos.

It takes a minute, but Bakura does eventually lower himself back down onto his chair, even though his fists are clenched, and he is nearly shaking in silent fury.

Yuugi tilts his lips, near a pout, because Atemu has ruined his fun, per usual. Distraction now gone, he turns back to Ryou and proceeds to ignore everyone else in the room.

Marik is apparently disappointed as well, but he says nothing further on the matter. Instead, he asks Atemu, “So, what do you wanna do about these guys, boss?”

Atemu bites his lower lip, pensive. He puts the folder down on his desk and leans back in his chair to look at the two of them. “How about we invite them over for a sit-down?”

“Nah, they won’t go for that,” Marik responds. “They might be a small group, but from what we can tell so far, they’re fuckin' smart.”

“Too bad,” Atemu comments. “The stupid ones are easier to deal with.”

“Can’t your little _bitch_ help us out with the OG?” Bakura hisses, glancing over at the individual in question.

Yuugi flips him off, but says nothing as he continues to talk gently to Ryou about one thing or another.

Atemu shrugs nonchalantly. “I’d rather keep this as clean as possible, and Yuugi is just a fucking filthy little thing.”

Yuugi stifles a laugh mid-conversation with Ryou, and Atemu almost smiles at the boy’s muffled giggle.

But he doesn’t, because Yuugi does not need any encouragement.

Instead, he discusses alternative methods to dealing with this issue with his two senior members.

They both leave once a course of action is decided upon. Atemu also dismisses Katsuya, because he’s had his fill of people today. Bakura obviously takes Ryou with him, and Yuugi whines at this.

Atemu doesn’t care about Yuugi’s distress, so he tells the boy to go elsewhere.

Yuugi doesn't listen, because he never does and most likely has a death wish.

Atemu considers this as Yuugi’s arms come from behind him to snake around his neck. The younger man’s lips are at his ear. “Let me help you with your problem,” Yuugi hums to him. "I want to come out and play, too."

Atemu turns his head and Yuugi catches his lips with his own. The boy presses languidly against him, and Atemu feels some of the ever-present tension leave his body. “You’re too messy,” Atemu mutters, but turns his chair to pull Yuugi onto his lap anyways, because he likes when Yuugi’s thighs spread for him.

“I’ll clean up afterwards,” Yuugi promises with a pretty flutter of his lilac eyes. He raises his hands to cup the sides of Atemu’s face and purrs a sweet " _Please_ " into Atemu’s mouth.

Atemu sighs, because he knows he’s already lost this battle, even if he won’t admit to it. "I'll think about it," Atemu says simply. 

Yuugi takes that as a yes, which it is, and expresses his joy by kissing Atemu full on the lips. The action causes Atemu to deflate into his chair a bit and, without intending to, he pulls Yuugi closer to him.

The gesture makes him feel weak, and Atemu doesn't like it. 

He really should have just killed Yuugi by now.


	4. Chapter 4

Yuugi – the pathological liar that he is – does not abide by his word to clean up after himself.

Fortunately, Atemu isn’t stupid or naïve, nor does he really ever trust Yuugi in any capacity.

That’s why Atemu is prepared. He has a cleanup crew on standby, as he watches the boy from afar seduce the ignorant gang leader. He stands on the V.I.P. upper level of an associates’ club with a drink in his hand and his arms folded over the railings. His eyes never wander from Yuugi’s lithe, flexible body, as the boy straddles the other man’s lap and pushes against him.

Atemu has to admit that Yuugi possesses some rare traits that are difficult for Atemu to find in other potential counterparts.

One is the boy’s ability to lure other men into his bed and slit their throats in the midst of them fucking him – the only time a man in their line of work truly has their guard down.

Yuugi doesn’t mind the blood, even as it splatters over his pretty face and slips in between the honey strands of his hair.

And whereas Yuugi is easily fascinated with animals and shiny things that glitter in the sunlight, he is rather detached in his compassion towards other human beings (Ryou being the exception here).

This lack of empathy makes Yuugi a formidable assassin and is one of the strikingly few reasons Atemu keeps him around. 

If only Yuugi was more willing to listen to reason and behave himself... maybe Atemu would be able to add more reasons to that list. 

But Yuugi was his own entity; his own agent of chaos and destruction and temper tantrums, and Atemu could wield as much control over him as he could oceans and supernovas.

And so, Atemu sends in his men with bleach and gloves to clean up the crime scene in Yuugi’s loft apartment. He dispatches other members with bats to knock in a few skulls around the city.

He doesn’t murder every person associated with the small gang because he doesn’t need to.

All he needs to do is make a point.

 

* * *

 

Yuugi is currently playing with some paints in his study.

This is usually forbidden in Atemu’s immaculate study, but it is the boy's reward for a job well done the previous night.

In the time that Atemu has known Yuugi, he has found that the boy operates best on a reward system.

For good behavior, he receives gifts and privileges, whereas bad behavior gets him locked in the basement cellar for a day or two; maybe even a cracked rib if its something egregious.

Atemu has found over time that rewards influence Yuugi’s behavior much more than punishment.

He will listen more with the promise of new toys and attention than he will to the threat of discipline, belts, and confinement.

It is not a perfect system, as Yuugi is unpredictable at best, but it works well enough of the time for Atemu to utilize it as he sees fits.

Atemu peers over the book he is reading at his desk to glance at Yuugi painting quietly over the canvas on the floor by the fireplace.

Like this, one could confuse them for having a normal, content, uneventful partnership.

Yuugi must sense his gaze, for he turns to him and smiles.

Atemu has seen that smile before. He has seen it at night, right as Yuugi drifts off to sleep, nestled into his side like Atemu is his sole source of warmth in this world.

He’s also seen it on several occasions during Yuugi's mood swings - like that time Yuugi got pissy because it was a Tuesday and decided to play target practice with Atemu (the elder being the designated target here) with his new collection of knives (now confiscated).

That stunt earned him a severe beating and a three week ban from the premises. 

But now, as Yuugi sits there on the floor, his eyes every bit as stunning and breathtaking as the night they met, Atemu wonders how someone could be so fiercely loyal to him, yet so utterly untrustworthy at the same time.

Frustrated at the depth of introspection Yuugi's small gesture has caused him to sink to, Atemu chooses to return Yuugi’s smile with a scowl.

Yuugi rolls his eyes. "You know you love me," he says to him.

Atemu's gaze narrows. "I'd sell you to Satan for a cigar."

Yuugi laughs, tosses him a playful wink, and then goes back to his painting.

Atemu grunts and returns to his book.

They don't speak another word to each other for the remainder of the afternoon. 

It is a quiet day in the Sennen-Motou household.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Comments? Feedback, praise, and/or criticism all appreciated here.


	5. Chapter 5

“I want a cat.”

Atemu swears under his breath, and an ache almost instantly blossoms at the base of his neck.

It was the reckoning.

Atemu was nearly sure that the four words that had just left Yuugi’s mouth would prelude his untimely demise one day. Or Yuugi’s.

It was still a toss-up who would be suffocated in their sleep by the other first.

But one of them would certainly come to rue this hot afternoon in mid-July, for there was no conceivable way that both of them were getting out of this unscathed if history was anything to go by.

This was now the fourth time that Yuugi has asked him for a cat.

The first three times had not ended well.

“I’m busy, Yuugi.”

“Sounds like a personal problem.”

Irritation coils in Atemu’s blood, and he pulls himself out of the woman beneath him with a grunt. Flipping over on his bed, he lifts his head to look over at Yuugi, who is standing by the foot of the mattress. The boy leans with his hip against the bedpost and his arms crossed. He waits for Atemu to give him what he wants.

But the only thing Atemu wants to give him is a black eye for interrupting his mid-day fuck. “If you value your life _at all_ , it'd be best if you got the fuck out of my room.”

Yuugi might as well be deaf and stupid. “I said I want a cat.”

“Um, fucking excuse _you!_ ” The naked woman in Atemu’s bed shrieks at the intruder. “Who the fuck do you think – ?”

Yuugi snaps his gaze to her so abruptly that it almost makes a sound. "Say another word to me,” he tells her. “Please. I'm _begging_ you,” and he actually begs her.

The woman's jaw snaps close with an audible _click_.

Her blue eyes are wide, and she pushes herself back into the headboard behind her. Her tan skin stands out against the white sheets beneath her, and she’s actually quite stunning. But like the rest of the women under this roof, she is nothing more than a pretty face and a hole to fill – _very_ replaceable qualities, indeed.

Yuugi watches her for a second longer. Thinks about what size body bag she would fit into. 

Then he returns his eyes to Atemu. "I want a cat,” he says again, and Atemu grinds his teeth together so hard, his jaw cracks.

"Christ, Yuugi, what makes you think I fucking care about what you want?”

Yuugi clearly doesn’t like his tone, evident by the flush of color that fills his cheeks. “I said –“

“Get _out_.” Atemu pushes the words out from low in his throat, and they both know that the conversation is over. He won't be saying it again. “And if you try to sneak a cat into this house without my permission, I'll set it on fucking fire. Do we understand each other?”

Never. 

They never understand each other, because Atemu doesn't understand the inner-workings of a man with such deep-rooted trauma and mental instability, and Yuugi can't possibly understand a man with such black-and-white thinking; with such steadfast beliefs and opinions and absolutes about the way the universe works, because Yuugi lives only in gray areas. 

They are never on the same page, because Yuugi doesn't have a page. He has only a litany of words frantically scribbled across the white walls of his bedroom.

But then again, Atemu doesn't even own a book, because he's busy trying to own the world. 

"I asked you a question," Atemu snaps. "Do you understand?"

Yuugi's eyes darken. He says nothing. He glances at the silent, nearly petrified woman beside him, considers a thought, then looks back at Atemu.

He walks out of the room without another word.

Atemu glares at the door the boy exits through.

He takes a deep breath, allows the oxygen to circulate in his lungs and cool his blood. Then exhales.

Once calm, he decides to lie on his back and let this whore ride him, because why should he do any of the work.

 

* * *

  
Yuugi is silent for nearly three hours before shit hits the fan – and by _shit_ , Atemu means priceless family heirlooms.

He doesn’t know this at the time, because Atemu is preoccupied with an investor in his study.

They are talking numbers when he first hears something shatter from out in the hall.

Whatever it is, it sounded expensive.

Atemu slowly closes his eyes and inhales through his nose. He turns to the blond man standing upright beside him. "Katsuya, go check to see what's going on out there, would you?"

One would think Atemu had just asked Katsuya to take his dog out back and shoot it by the look of utter refusal on his face. But the blond would never, _ever_ refuse a request in front of company so long as he wanted to keep all of his extremities intact. So he complies with a stiff nod of his head.

"Will do, Boss."

Atemu turns back to his investor with a smile. “Apologies. Probably just one of the girls.”

“They are temperamental creatures,” the burly man assents with a grin.

Atemu concludes the conversation briefly thereafter. He sends the investor upstairs with one of his girls, so he can deal with the backlash from his earlier encounter with Yuugi in private and without witnesses. 

He pours himself a drink and takes a seat by his fireplace. He sips on his brandy and waits.

When Katsuya returns, he resembles a man who has just been tossed inside a locked room with a badger that had been starved for a week.

He rakes a hand through his disheveled hair, smoothing down the stray honey strands, and straightens out the collar of his shirt. His lip is bleeding; his jaw is bruising.

He comes to stand over Atemu and coughs into his hand.

"And?" prompts Atemu.

Katsuya shifts in his stance. “Yuugi orders you to get him a cat," he informs. 

Atemu hums and gives the drink in his hand a little swirl. "How about you go tell him that I'll order his execution instead?"

Katsuya hesitates. "I'd... rather not have to go tell him that."

Atemu finally looks up at him. “Bring him in here.”

“I doubt he’ll come willingly,” Katsuya says.

“Then _drag_ him in here.”

Katsuya leaves with a small, hurried bow, and Atemu stands from his chair and goes to lock the patio doors. 

For the next hour, he doesn't want anyone getting in. 

Or out. 


	6. Chapter 6

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Eh. Little disclaimer here, it's a bit graphic at times, but nothing too intense, I think. Oh, and sex. Like dirty, filthy, borderline not okay, sex. So there's that. Read at your own discretion, yo.

Atemu learned love through the fists of his father and the whoring of his mother.

As a child, the only thing that he loved was the piles of his father’s dirty money that kept him warm at night and that soaked up the blood from his beatings when bandages weren’t an option.

He was born and raised with an understanding of how the world worked.

Via violence and transactions, mostly.

But Yuugi.

Yuugi wasn't always like this.

Per an old mutual acquaintance, Yuugi used to be as bright and as radiant as the sun.

He was all soft words and even softer hands.

Hands that he would always extend without question to help others in need.

But now Yuugi's words had a bite to them, and his hands were always rough and never open to anyone.

The only friends Yuugi had anymore were his own demons, and even Atemu knew that the boy did not deserve the life he had been forced into.

But as two security personnel drag Yuugi into his study, _literally_ kicking and screaming, Atemu tries to find patience where none exists.

“Tase him if you have to,” Atemu says to the hired help.

Both men are twice Yuugi’s size, but they are not nearly as angry or as broken or as unabashedly unafraid of death as the boy flailing in their grip, so they don’t possess the complete lack of restraint that Yuugi does when he’s triggered. 

At Atemu’s input, Yuugi pauses in his attempt to claw their eyes out and break the bones in their face.

He looks at Atemu sitting by the fireplace and hisses a grand _“Fuck you!”_

Then, he tries to extricate himself again; tries to tear his arms out from under the men’s grip and, when that doesn’t work, he vows to drain the blood from their bodies to store in jugs and leave outside their mothers' houses.

Atemu purses his lips and has to stop himself from slowly nodding his head to show that he is mildly impressed with Yuugi’s creativity.

“Tell them to get their fucking hands off me,” Yuugi demands, because he’s delusional and, for some reason, believes himself to be in a position to demand things from Atemu.

“Only if you calm the fuck down.” 

“I _am_ calm.”

Yuugi says this, then tries to bite one of the hands clutching his shoulder.

Atemu sets his drink down on the side table by his elbow. Stares at Yuugi. “If I need to sedate you,” Atemu says to him, “then so be it.”

Yuugi actually stops at this and is now still; as still as stone, his face as red as blood, and his eyes darker than Atemu’s soul.

Atemu knows the memories that this particular threat elicits.

“ _Fine_.” Yuugi spits out the word, pushes it out between clenched teeth, because it’s absolutely _not fine_.

Atemu dismisses the two men, tells them to let Yuugi go.

The hesitation is written on their foreheads, seeps into the lines of their faces and the edges of their frowns.

But they don't want to disobey, because they don't want to die, and Atemu briefly considers that they must feel like that outcome is inevitable no matter what they choose to do. 

They release Yuugi's arms then, remove their grips from the boy's shoulders and wrists, _ever so slowly._  

Yuugi does nothing.

Doesn't turn to attack them or rip out their throats.

His entire focus is on Atemu, and to hold Yuugi's undivided attention is never something to strive for.  

His security personnel leave then. They walk with hidden haste and make it out the door, and probably thank all the gods that exist that they will live to see another day. 

Atemu thinks that this is premature on their part, because Yuugi likes to hold grudges and will probably find a nice pair of scissors to bury into their stomachs the next time he sees them.

“How _dare_ you,” Yugi whispers when it’s just them. 

“You forced my hand,” Atemu retorts, and he watches him from his chair. “You _always_ force my hand.”

 Yuugi's entire body is tight; wound with tension and wrath and a misguided understanding on how to deal with either. 

The boy glances away from Atemu, towards the elder's expensive liquor cabinet, his pristine desk, his imported chairs, and Atemu can see into the future.

“I need you to think, Yuugi.” Atemu warns him. He slowly stands from his chair and turns his whole body towards Yuugi. “I need you to think…very carefully.”

But Yuugi doesn’t think, ever.

So, Atemu grabs him before he does something that will warrant a stay in the fucking cage downstairs and slams him into the wall, twisting one arm behind his back to hold him in place. He presses Yuugi's cheek into the wall and growls into his ear, "Do you even have one  _ounce_ of self-preservation left in that thick fucking skull of yours?"

Yuugi says nothing, he just pushes his hips back into his, and Atemu's vision blurs.

Atemu tries to hone in on his anger then; tries to not get distracted by Yuugi's cotton shirt, by his useless shorts, or by the moon-glow of his skin, because Yuugi will knock him out cold if given the chance. 

But Yuugi has always been a slippery, agile little prick, so he somehow manages to spin in his arms, and he almost hooks Atemu in the jaw.

Atemu catches his curled fist in his hand and considers breaking it. 

"You have two options here and only two," Atemu says. His eyes are fire, are flames of scarlet, when he presses his forehead against Yuugi's and levels him with a glare. They are entangled in each other - knotted together with tense limbs that are becoming slick with sweat. "Would you like to hear them?"

"How's this for an option?" Yuugi exhales, and his hot breath blows on Atemu's lips. "I'm _leaving_.”

If given the choice, Yuugi always chooses confrontation.

He never flees, never backs down, and there is almost always blood.

This being the case, his words surprise Atemu. They also sort of come as a relief, because now Atemu doesn't have to worry about ruining his new suit. 

“Good," Atemu disentangles himself from Yuugi. Takes a step back, out of the boy's space. "Give the family my best," he tells him, dismissively. 

Yuugi narrows his gaze, pushes himself off of the wall and takes a step towards the door. “No, you don't get it," he says. "I'm not leaving the house or the city or the country. I'm leaving _you_.”

In the time that they have known each other, Yuugi has threatened many things. 

His life, his home, his peace of mind, his sanity. 

And it's true that every once in a blue moon, Yuugi will just up and disappear for extended periods of time. He'll go and wander the streets like the grim reaper and find other outlets for his irrational anger. 

But he always comes back, always finds his way back to Atemu, come hell or high water.

So, this is a first for Atemu, because in all the time that Atemu has known him, Yuugi has never threatened to  _leave_  him.

“You can't,” the words slip out of Atemu's mouth before he can stop them.

Yuugi's eyes lock over his. "Watch me," is all he says. 

Yuugi stalks towards the door then; even makes it three steps.

Atemu pins him to the floor before he can make it to four. 

_"Get off!"_

Atem doesn't oblige, because fuck this little nightmare in his arms; he should strangle him with his bare hands for this. 

"You have some fucking nerve," Atemu snarls, right in his face. "After everything I've done for you; after all your _bullshit_ , you think you can just fucking leave me? You ungrateful little shit."

Yuugi shoves at his shoulders, swears at him. "Oh, you can go rot in fucking _hell_."

"You are my fucking hell," Atemu tells him, holding him down. "And after everything you've put me through, you don't get to just _leave_. No. There is only one way you leave me, and that's in a fucking body bag.”

Yuugi's jaw clenches. "I can leave if I fucking want. You don't own me," he says. "I don't need this, and I don't fucking need you!"

“Of course you do, I'm all you _have._ ”

Yuugi stills.

Atemu can sense the tension in the boy's frame vanish, can feel the small body become soft and pliable under his palms. 

Atemu had found Yuugi nearly two years ago, tied up to a bedpost during a raid of rival’s gangs place.

He was part of a sex-trafficking ring and, by the time Atemu had met him at nineteen years of age, Yuugi had been drugged, sold, sodomized, and abused for almost three years.

Atemu had released all of the captive teenaged girls and boys he had found that night into the streets.

He didn’t care for damaged goods when he had his own supply of very willing participants, and he couldn’t have given less of a fuck what happened to them once he had sent them on their way.

But then, there was Yuugi – a pale little thing littered with bruises as purple and blue as his eyes. Yuugi had looked up at him with those wide eyes, caught his gaze, and Atemu was reminded of lightning storms and dark, lonely nights and a part of him that had died long ago.

So, Atemu untied him and took him with him.

Yuugi didn't talk for the first three months that he lived with Atemu.

He didn’t even leave his room.

He barely ate.

He was all bones that stuck out of his skin.

All bones and inconsolable rage.

He lashed out at everyone that came into his room; every maid, every butler, every security personnel. There wasn't one single time that Yuugi _hadn't_ tried to assault Katsuya during the weekly welfare checks that Atemu ordered the blond man to perform to ensure that the boy hadn’t died and that his body wasn't decomposing and dissolving into his nice rug.

Atem wanted to get rid of Yuugi on several occasions during that initial phase, where it looked like reintegrating Yuugi back into society was an impossible endeavor. 

He found no interest in the useless, silent, volatile little thing that someone (or that _five hundred someones_ ) had broken into a million pieces.

But every time that Atemu went into the boy’s designated room to kick him out of his home and onto the streets, Yuugi would curl around him, bring his mouth to his, and fuck him into bliss until morning.

And Atemu would think that he could keep him around for a little bit longer.

But then Yuugi started fucking _talking_.

And he wouldn’t stop fucking talking.

Even still, Atemu reminisced every now and again on those silent days when the only sounds that ever left Yuugi’s lips were delicious moans and airy sighs when they fucked, and he missed them more than he missed the perfume his mother used to wear at night before disappearing into the black abyss on the other side of their front door.  

But lucky for Yuugi, he was smart. In between being raped and beaten, he observed quietly from afar and watched the operations of a criminal ring from behind-the-scenes. He knew how business was handled, how money was made, how law enforcement was evaded, and the boy was actually capable of offering solid advice that helped Atemu rake in more piles of cash for him to sleep next to.

And Atemu thought... he could keep him around for just a little bit longer. 

But then Yuugi started growing angsty, started becoming reckless and impulsive in an attempt, Atemu assumed, to get himself killed.

And Atemu should've just let him destroy himself. 

But instead Atemu pushed Yuugi out of the way when someone shot at them. 

Atemu still had the bullet lodged in his stomach when he cut the shooter's face from ear to ear and tore out his intestines so that the man could wear them as an accessory.

“Atemu.”

Yuugi’s looking at him now; looking at him with those big, round eyes, and Atemu takes a deep breath.

He lifts his hand to brush over the scars on Yugi’s stomach. Old burns from the time Atemu was ambushed, and Yuugi ran into a burning warehouse and dragged him out by the scruff of his shirt.  

And, at the time, Atemu thought… he could keep him around for just a little bit longer.

It takes until this moment, takes until right this second for Atemu to realize that _a little bit longer_ is forever, and that Yuugi gets absoutely no say in that.

He stays, or Atemu will kill him and bury his body in his backyard so that he’ll always be close by.

Somehow he knows that no matter what Yuugi says to the contrary, the boy doesn’t actually mind those being his only two options.

Suddenly, Yuugi is kissing him, filthy, with bites and moans and Atemu is already hard, already undressing them both, already pulling at those stupid fucking shorts, and trying to fuck him dry.

He has to almost force himself in, because its tight, and he's not properly lubricated, but he thrusts his cock inside of Yuugi anyways, and it hurts Yuugi, but it is all Yuugi knows and, in a way, the brutality of it soothes his inner turmoil. 

Yuugi moans, in pain, in pleasure – they’re both the same to him - and Atemu can feel everything, every part of Yuugi clenching around every part of him, every vein, and he feels heat in his blood, coiling in his belly, hot and so sensitive to the touch. 

Yuugi arches into his fingertips, calls out to him with that mouth that never stops fucking talking now, and touches him with hands that are no longer soft.

Atemu grabs his hips, bruises them, and fucks him harder, because Yuugi begs for it.

He shudders when the boy cums and it streams out hot onto their stomachs. Being inside of Yuugi, so rough and so dirty and so tight, is _unbearable_ , and Atemu can't take it anymore, so he fills him and claims him as his, just like he always has been. 

Atemu hates the feel of the cold floor against his back when he rolls over onto the ground, but he is exhausted and sweat is beading on his skin like drops of salty rain. Yugi folds into his side then, breathes onto his collarbone, and Atemu thinks that he can stay on the floor for just a little bit longer. 

“I want a cat,” Yuugi mumbles into his neck, sweet and precious and fucking stupid.

And Atemu doesn’t say no, because Yuugi keeps him warmer at night than piles of money ever could.


	7. Chapter 7

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> WARNING: Fluff.

Atemu wonders if it’s time for a new chair when he notices a faint twinge in his back, below his left shoulder blade. He shifts his weight, rolls his shoulder, and feels relief for a moment before the sensation returns. Perhaps he has been sitting for too long, hunched over his desk, sorting through blueprints and contracts and invoices. He contemplates taking a break to stretch his muscles out in one of his lawn chairs by the pool, but dismisses the idea as soon as it presents itself. 

He doesn’t like to take breaks.

He likes to work until he’s done and even then some.

He will relax when everything is as it should be; when all the papers are filed, when all of his operations are running at full capacity, and when all of his members have been appropriately compensated.

“It’s been quiet,” Katsuya observes, as he pours Atemu a fresh drink at the bar. He sets it down on the desk and comes to stand beside him. “Is Yuugi in lockup again?” he asks.

Atemu makes a note alongside the margin of one of the papers on his desk. “No,” he says absently. “He’s around.”

Katsuya pauses. “Uh, plotting your death or…?”

Yes, Atemu supposed that when it comes to Yuugi, there is a such thing as ‘too quiet’.

“He’s just preoccupied,” Atemu tells him. “I got him a cat.”

Katsuya is nonplussed. He blinks. “You _hate_ cats,” he states, matter-of-factly.

“I also hate sleeping with one eye open and locking up everything sharp at night,” Atemu muses, as he files. “Lesser of two evils, I suppose.”

Katsuya says nothing, and Atemu notices that the stitch in his back has grown and now runs along the length of his spine. He takes a swing of his drink to dull the pain, massages his temples, and then marches onward because he has work to do, and his work is never really done.

 

* * *

  
Yuugi carries the little _rat_ (as Atemu as aptly named it) everywhere.

It is a tiny thing; a ball of black fur and round green eyes, and Yuugi tucks the kitten into the crevice of his arm wherever he goes.

Atemu does not want the dirty little thing in his study, scratching up his furniture or pissing on his floors, but Yuugi begs him, lures him with full kisses on the lips and soft touches to his cheek, and it is so hard to resist Yuugi when he’s not being a dick.

So, he permits the feline entry into his study with the promise to toss it into the fireplace if it ruins any of his things.

Yuugi ignores him and settles down next to said fireplace, on his belly, with his feet swinging back and forth behind him. He leans on his elbows, as he pokes the kitten on the nose and plays with it's ears.

And when the feline paws at his fingers, Yuugi _laughs_.

The sound that leaves Yuugi's lips reminds Atemu of wind chimes in the summer breeze, and Atemu wonders if Yuugi used to always laugh like this when he was younger, before he was exposed to how cruel the world truly was. 

“Katsuya!” Yuugi greets the man that enters the study with exuberance. 

Katsuya nearly jumps out of his skin, because his body is conditioned for pain anytime that Yuugi sets his sights to him. "Uh, yeah, what's up?" the blond manages with a tight smile. 

"Come over here!" Yuugi waves at him. "Come see my new cat."

Katsuya shifts his gaze from Yuugi to Atemu (who is ignoring them both) and then back to Yuugi. "Sure, man," he says, because he has a 28th birthday coming up that he'd really like to make it to. 

The blond creeps over to the fireplace, his steps slow and his body stiff. Sure enough, a little dark kitten is stretched out long next to Yuugi's hands, soaking in the heat from the flames next to them. 

“He’s cute,” Katsuya says and is apparently expected to pretend that the whole incident last week when Yuugi promised to cut out his kidneys to feed to Bakura's dogs didn't actually happen. “What’s his name?”

Yuugi hums and stares down at his kitten with that spark of wonder in his eyes. It's the same way he looks at Ryou, with awe and tenderness and curiosity, as if he's wondering how things so naïve and innocent still exist in this world. “Atemu," he finally says. 

“ _No_.”

Atemu doesn't look up when he says this, doesn't need to, because his tone is enough to make his opinion on the matter clear. 

“Fine.” Yuugi runs his fingers along the feline's belly, the kitten fur soft against his skin, and he smiles. “I’ll think of something else," he concedes.

 

* * *

 

It is almost 9:00pm when Atemu is done with his paperwork and his meetings and his phone calls.

Yuugi is already asleep in his bed when he enters his room, all sore muscles and heavy eyes. 

Sleep calls out to him like a siren, and he unbuttons his shirt and places it in a basket to be dry-cleaned. 

He turns towards the bed, ready for the darkness to welcome him home, and catches sight of the little rat _in_ his bed. 

 _On_ his sheets. 

His jaw unhinges, mouth open, every bit as ready to ban both the animal and his owner from his bedroom. 

But before he can, Yuugi slips back into consciousness and blinks himself awake.

He looks down at his kitten first, makes sure that he's still there, then his eyes flicker over to Atemu, and he calls out for him with a hushed voice, and Atemu remembers who the real siren is here. 

“Até," he mumbles into the stillness. 

It is a nickname that is reserved for Yuugi’s sweetest and rarest of moments.

Atemu can count on both hands how often Yuugi has used it in the past two years.

The boy reaches towards him, beckons him closer with his fingers, and Atemu forgets all the words he was about to speak as he sinks down next to Yuugi onto the mattress.

Yuugi shifts onto his side, cradles his kitten close to him, and lifts his head to rest it against Atemu's chest. He purrs, or the cat purrs, or they both purr. 

And then Yuugi is asleep again. 

Over the forest of dark curly hair, Atemu can see the little rat yawn, with tiny teeth and a pink tongue poking out of its mouth. It stretches out, then curls back into a ball between them.

Atemu makes a face at it, doesn't like it in their bed but decides he will wait to kick it and Yuugi out in the morning, because he is too tired to deal with it now. 

Instead, Atemu focuses on the warmth of Yuugi's body, as it seeps into his skin, and the sound of the boy's breathing.

He glances down once more time at the pet nestled in between them, watches as its entire body inflates with each breath it takes, and listens to the little noises it makes.  

He pats the little rat's head.

He supposes that it’s not _that bad_.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Annnnnndddd now we'll return to your regularly scheduled, shit-hitting-the-fan, program.


	8. Chapter 8

And then Yuugi’s cat _dies_.

At only nine weeks old, it's anyone's guess why the tiny feline stopped breathing in the middle of the night.

It could have been any number of things - a heart defect or a viral infection. Or maybe the gods just felt like fucking up Atemu's day.

But for whatever reason (the last one; it was definitely the last one), after only having his kitten for four days, Yuugi had curled up into bed with it, and when he woke the next morning, the kitten was still in his arms. 

And oh, how Yuugi _screamed_. 

Atemu had tried to console the inconsolable boy. Tried to reason with the unreasonable. 

It turned out as expected.  

 _“I can get you another one!”_ Atemu had shouted, already at the end of his rope two hours into the ordeal. 

Yuugi had hissed at him then, teeth and all.  _“I don’t want another one!”_ he had screeched.  _"I want my fucking cat back."_

_"Well, I want you to be a sane, functional fucking adult, but we can't get everything we want in life, Yuugi."_

Not the best thing to say at the time, Atemu admitted after Yuugi had stomped upstairs and set _literal_ fire to his bedroom. 

An hour later, after the flames have been extinguished and Yuugi has screamed his throat raw, Atemu finds himself back in his study, riffling through his books to see if there's currently any open petty crimes he can pin on Yuugi to get the boy sent to lockup until this all blows over. 

Let the police actually earn their keep and deal with the raving lunatic sequestered in the downstairs basement. 

"You need to handle this," Katsuya tells him, hovering by his side. 

Atemu knows this. 

He knows that even with Yuugi quarantined, his entire house is on high alert.

Atemu already has two staff unaccounted for. 

"Quickly," the blond adds. 

Atemu likes Katsuya, but the man's careless words and the ache behind his temples make Atemu want to use the pen in his hand to stab the man in the throat. "I am well aware of the situation," Atemu speaks the words slowly. He leans back into his chair and stares evenly at Katsuya. "But if you have any suggestions on how to best handle this, _please_. I'm all ears."

Katsuya catches his tone, his steady gaze. He stands straighter and ducks his head in respect with tiny tendrils of fear. "I'm sorry," he says. 

"You must have misheard me." Atemu lifts his chin and raises an eyebrow at him. "I asked for your thoughts on what you think I should do regarding Yuugi's dead pet. What I did not ask for was an apology for your previous unwanted input."

Katsuya's throat strains when he swallows. "Ah, yes, I..." the amber eyes flicker down to his feet. "Maybe a ban?" 

"In his current state, he'll get himself killed." Atemu wishes he was more okay with this, but after all he's tolerated over the past two years, he doesn't like the idea of someone or something else getting the satisfaction. 

"Well, then..." Katsuya shrugs. "I don't know... maybe like, give him a hug? He might just need a shoulder to cry on."

Atemu snorts. “Yuugi isn’t capable of crying,” Atemu informs him. “I’ve never seen him cry. Not once; not ever. I don't think he can anymore.”

Atemu has always assumed that Yuugi had used all of his allotted tears during the years he had spent bound to bedposts and drainage pipes, begging and bleeding and praying to gods who didn't actually exist. 

He figured that the boy simply had no more tears to spare. 

Katsuya opens his mouth, is about to respond to him, but a noise catches both of their attention. 

Yuugi is standing in the threshold, his hip against the frame of the door. He is watching them, quiet, with crossed arms, a blood-stained shirt, and an unreadable gaze.

He's not supposed to be here; he's _supposed_ to be in seclusion so that Atemu doesn't have to hire and vet an entire house worth of new employees. 

Atemu doesn't know how Yuugi got out, but guesses that he probably promised to fuck the man standing guard down in the basement and killed him instead. 

"Yuugi," Atemu says wearily. "What is - ?"

“I’d cry if you died.”

If Atemu knew how to startle, he would have at Yuugi’s words.

Not waiting for a response, Yuugi glances away from him, towards the fireplace. He appears to be lost in the thought, somewhere in his own head as he considers his words and evaluates their truthfulness. After another moment, he gives a little nod, then looks back and catches Atemu's eyes. "Yeah," he says, as if he's sure now. "I'd cry for you."

He says no more.

Just turns and leaves, and everything is quiet. 

Atemu stares at the empty doorway. Wonders if what he just saw was a mirage, and if what he just heard was a figment of his imagination. 

It was neither, he knows. 

Just Yuugi, being half homicidal, and half honest and sweet with him. 

His gaze flickers to Katsuya, who looks like a fish out of water, with a gaping hole in his face where his mouth used to be. 

Atemu places his hands on the surface of his desk and stands to his feet. "Katsuya," he says, and his tone demands immediate attention. " _Get the car_."

 

* * *

 

Atemu tracks down the man who sold him the defected kitten and bashes his skull in with a baseball bat. 

But not before he gets the information he needs. 

The litter Yuugi's kitten had come from wasn't a large one, but there's enough of those little rats running around for Atemu to track down one of the people who bought one. 

It doesn't take much detective work on his part to find the right house. 

He knocks on the door. Waits. 

Katsuya waits silently beside him. 

The woman who opens the door seems nice. She has a friendly smile, but confused eyes when Atemu asks for her to hand over the kitten she had just purchased last week. She doesn't understand what's going on and calls her husband to the door, and Atemu sees the kitten scrambling around in the background, in the living room, playing with a small mouse toy. It has a white dot on its tail, but is otherwise all black and identical to its dead sibling.  

Atemu looks back at the couple and repeats his request, one more time. 

And when they refuse, he shoots them both with a gun that will never be traced back to him. 

He steps over their bodies, over the blood soaking into the gray carpet, and scoops the kitten into his hands.

Then he passes it off to Katsuya and returns into the living room to take the little mouse toy with them, because why not?

 

* * *

 

When Atemu comes back home, he finds Yuugi sitting in the yard, by the tree where he buried his cat.

The younger man is leaning against the trunk of the tree with his face angled up towards the sun and, with his eyes closed like they are, he actually looks peaceful there; this beautiful man with skin better suited for winter, with thin, wiry limbs, and long, curly gold and raven hair. 

He opens his eyes when he hears Atemu approach, and they shine like expensive jewels under the light of the sun; breathtaking like the violets decorating his yard. 

Atemu stops in front of him. 

Yuugi watches him. Says nothing. 

Then Atemu brings his arms out from behind his back and extends the little black feline with the one white dot on its tail towards him. 

He can't give Yuugi his cat back, but he can give him it's brother or sister and hope that that's enough. 

Yuugi stares at the offered kitten, gazes at it as it meows in Atemu's hands and nips at his fingers.

He looks back to Atemu. 

And oh, how Yuugi _beams_. 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> You know, I actually left this one on a positive note. Wasn't planning that, but there you go. Another PWP bites the dust. Comments/Kudos loved. 
> 
> Look for my new pointless mini blindshipping fic 'Slay'. I'll be posting it sometime this week, while I continue to chip away towards the completion of S&AD.

**Author's Note:**

> FYI: If anyone has a tumblr and is interested in my fics, I just got one and plan to post little snippets for upcoming chapters/stories. Also, puzzle/blindshipping goodness. It's 'hikariandyamiblog' if you want to follow. :)


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